White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

one thing, and I have yet to hear of an intelligent species who does not have an

aversion to crying their equivalent of wolf. 1 think the crew must have

panicked, then discovered that the condition of the ship was not as distressed

as they at first thought. They may have resumed their journey or. tried for a

planetary landing to effect repairs. We’ll have to eliminate the latter

possibility before we leave. Dodds?”

“The system has been surveyed,” the Astrogator’s voice replied. “G-type sun,

seven planets with one, the one we can see, habitable in the short term by

warm-blooded oxygen breathers. No indigenous intelligent life. Course for a

close approach and search, sir?”

“Yes,” Fletcher said. “Haslam, pull in your long-range sen­sors and set up for a

planetary surface scan. Lieutenant Chen, I’ll need impulse power, four Gs, on my

signal. And Haslam, just in case the ship is down and trying to signal its

presence, monitor the normal and hyperradio frequencies.”

A few minutes later they felt the deck press momentarily against their feet as

the artifical gravity system compensated for the four-G thrust. Conway,

Pathologist Murchison, and Charge Nurse Naydrad moved closer to the repeater

where Dodds had displayed the details of the target planet’s gravity pull,

atmospheric composition and pressure, and the environ­mental data which made it

just barely habitable. The empathic Doctor Prilicla clung ;o the safety of the

ceiling and observed the screen at slightly longer range.

It was the Charge Nurse, its silvery fur rippling in agitation, who spoke first.

“This ship isn’t supposed to land on unprepared surfaces,” Naydrad said. “That

ground is—is rough.”

“Why couldn’t they have stayed in space like good little distressed aliens,”

Murchison said to nobody in particular, “and waited to be rescued?”

Conway looked at her and said thoughtfully, “It is possible that their condition

of distress was nonmechanical. Injury, sick­ness, or psychological disturbances

among the crew, perhaps, problems which have since been resolved. If it was a

physical problem then they should have stayed out here, since it is easier to

effect repairs in weightless conditions.”

“Not always, Doctor,” Fletcher’s voice cut in sharply from

;;the Control Deck. “If the physical problem was a badly holed hull, a

breathable atmosphere around them might seem more desirable than weightless and

airless space. No doubt you have medical preparations to make.”

Conway felt a surge of anger at the other’s thinly veiled suggestion that he

tend to his medical knitting and stop trying to tell the Captain his business.

Beside him Murchison was breathing heavily and Naydrad’s fur was tufting and

rippling as if blown by a strong wind, while above them the emotion-sensitive

Prilicla’s six insectile legs and iridescent wings quiv­ered in the emotional

gale they were generating. Out of con­sideration for the empath, Conway tried to

control his feelings, as did the others.

It was ^understandable that Fletcher, the ship’s commander, liked to have the

last word, but he knew and accepted the fact that on Sector General’s special

ambulance ship he had to relinquish command to the senior medic, Conway, during

the course of a rescue. Fletcher was a good officer, able, resource­ful, and one

of the Federation’s top men in the field of com­parative extraterrestrial

technology. But there were times during the short period while responsibility

was being passed to Senior Physician Conway when his manner became a trifle

cool, for­mal—even downright nasty.

Prilicla’s trembling diminished and the little empath tried to say something

which would further improve the quality of the emotional radiation around it.

“If the lately distressed vessel has landed on this planet,” it said timidly,

“then we know that the crew belongs to one of the oxygen-breathing species and

the preparations to receive casualties, if any, will be relatively simple.”

“That’s true,” Conway said, laughing.

“Only thirty-eight different species fall into that category,” Murchison said,

and added dryly, “that we know of.”

Rhabwar’s sensors detected a small concentration of metal and associated

low-level radiation, which on an uninhabited Pianet could only mean the presence

of a grounded ship, while they were still two diameters out. As a result they

were able to decelerate and enter atmosphere for a closer look after only l*o